If you ever get the chance... don't

Helpful hint to every Net denizen who happens upon this...... I have decided that it is not entirely sane to tell one's personal trainer the following: "I seem to have hit a plateau". I personally think that mine decided that "oh you have, have you? We'll just see about that!".

Ergo, I struggle to walk this fine day. Brother. I want to go lie down and sleep for a couple of hours.

My personal trainer is just a little sprite of a thing. Nice as can be. And mean as all-git-out on the inside.  I told her today I was going to pop her with my towel!

Seriously, I was in need of the next level of workouts.  As I continue to train and better my temple, it has been really helpful to have a professional show me the way.  The hard work, the determination to get up at 0430 every morning, and the endurance to keep going and not slack off as I have so many times.... those come from me and me alone.   But my trainer helps me by showing me how to exercise so that my physique is well-rounded and I minimize the chance for injury.

If you are trying to make a change like this in your life, and you have the means, I highly recommend that you contract with a trainer to show you the way.  As I have mentioned in a previous post, I got inspired by a one-armed Mt. Everest climber... and for my own personal quest, my trainer is my 'sherpa'.


Random thoughts for today:
1.  Pudge Rodriguez is a Yankee now.  Yuck.  I hate the Yankees.  I like Rodriguez.  Why do so many ex-Rangers go on to great things in their careers, whilst the home team still struggles to figure out that pitching is a crucial element in winning baseball?!?
2.  Did you know that an MRI of the knee looks a lot like a pork chop?

The human psyche is a wonderfully strange thing...

Today I did something that any reasonable person would consider benign and innocuous.  I switched my "home library"!   Allow me to explain:  I am a frequent patron of the one of the local library systems, and as one might easily guess, I use their internet-based features quite frequently.    The internet tools they provide allow me the ability to manage the items I have checked out, search for new items, and have them placed on hold under my name.   Then I simply walk in to the "holds" area, which is conveniently located near the front, pull my items, and I'm checked out in minutes.

Part of the process requires you to select a "home library"  It;s the branch where all your holds will be sent for pickup.  For the last 2-3 years, I have been "homed" out of one particular branch that is located along a major freeway of my commute.  Now that I work at a different place, and I recently decided not to use that freeway anymore to avoid the toll fees, I decided that another branch of the library would be slightly more convenient... so today I asked a librarian to change my "home library".

Benign and innocuous.  One could hardly think of something more definitive of those terms.  The phrase "no big deal" comes to mind.

So, why did a feel a small twinge of guilt as I made this change?  Make no mistake, it was by no means a crippling sense of guilt, but an honest self-examination proved it to be extant nonetheless.    Granted, we are creatures of habit, and I had been patronizing this one particular branch for several years.. sometimes stopping by multiple times per week on the way home.   I recognized most of the library staff, and I like to think that some of them knew me as well-- especially after waltzing into the library in my full motorcycle gear a few times!

I've never lived in a real urban environment, but I imagine that the change I made today would be like changing hot dog vendors or newsstands in New York or D.C.  In my own little way, I had built a brand loyalty with this particular branch and some of its librarians, and I felt a little guilty abandoning them on the altar of convenience (or to the extortion of $4.00 gasoline!)

In the grand scheme of things, this was certainly nothing to get one's knickers in a knot over... but I was fascinated that such a simple thing could cause such feelings.   The human psyche is a wonderfully complicated and mysterious thing....

The mysterious handprint

As I returned from lunch today, I looked up while riding the elevator and noticed a perfect handprint on the stainless steel just above the inside of the elevator door.  It was so clear I could almost make out the whorls in the fingerprints. 

Stuff like this fascinates me-- whose handprint is that?  Why was their hand there?  It wasn't in a spot likely to be touched, not even by a repairman;  nor would it have been a likely spot for the disfiguration-defying practice of sticking one's hand in to keep the doors from closing.

So... why was the print there?   Was it some sports-enthused male with a teenager's mindset, (which sounds somewhat like me!) reaching up to slap the door on the way out, like an imaginary backboard?  Was it a repairman reaching up to brace himself while working on some other part of the elevator?   Or was it someone bracing themselves while having a quickie with a co-worker?  (It would have to be quick, as there are only 3 floors!).

Sadly, I will never know.  Like the footprints in the sand from Longfellow's The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls, this traveller will pass on and with the next swipe of Windex the handprint will be lost forever.....

Kids sure do grow up fast

Lately I have been struck by how much older Matthew (our 8-yr old son) looks.  Despite a real difference of only 15 months, he seems much older than his brother Logan.  I watch Matthew when he goes to the rock climbing gym, or as he plays soccer, or as he plays videogames... and I am struck by how he carries himself.

 
There is less and less of the awkwardness that often accompanies the post-toddler years.  He moves like a cat, and looks like a miniature teenager. (Now there's a frightening thought-- Dear God, he's only 8!)  I watch him with a mixture of pride, and wistfulness.  Wistfulness for youth in its own right, and for the speed with which time is passing, carrying my precious son towards manhood....

I'm addicted....

To working out. I've been going to the gym every day now for weeks. 3 days of weight training and 4 days of core strengthening exercises and cardio work.

At the end of last year, my previous employer brought in a motivational speaker at a company meeting. The speaker's name was Gary Guller, the only one-armed man to ever climb Mt. Everest all the way to the North Summit. After listening to Gary speak, I did some research on climbing Mt. Everest, and got a better grasp of the unique challenges he faced (namely: the Hillary Step), and the thought struck me that I had no more excuses for my overweight, out-of-shape physical condition.

You can find out more about Gary and Team Everest here:  Gary Guller  and Team Everest '03

I hung up the Team Everest poster in my office, and included a sign underneath it saying that "If a one-armed man could take a team of quadriplegics and persons with other disabilities to Everest base camp, and then climb to the north summit, then I could lose 60 lbs in 2008".

So I started.  I started doing cardio work on the treadmill, changed my diet  significantly to a doable and reasonable plan suggested by Men's Health  (Belly off!), and went and had a full physical from my doc.

My resolve was only further strengthened by the death of my mom in February, at only age 63.  She died way too early for modern times, primarily because she didn't take care of herself.

So I got even more serious.  After changing jobs and losing access to the little free gym I was using... I bit the bullet and joined a top-notch gym.  And then, after mucho discussions with my wife, we actually budgeted the money for a personal trainer.  (Due to my Everest inspirations, I call my trainer my "sherpa" )

Now, I'm working out 7 times a week.  It's a lot of hard work, but I have more energy to expend throughout the day, my clothes are fitting better, and I've lost around 25 lbs and over 5% body fat so far.

There's a long way to go, and it takes a lot of commitment, but I really feel like I've gotten over the commitment hump.  Indeed... I'm addicted to feeling better about myself :)

7 miles of uncrossable distance

For those of you who recognize the significance of the "title" of this LJ page... this post falls under that category.

In fact, many of the posts in this blog will probably have some tie-in the quote that is attributed to Einstein (but not confirmed as his!).. which is one of the reasons I chose it as a title.  :D    (I wanted to use the "people are like slinkys" one... but decided against it.)

Anyhoo, what is it about some business owners that just don't get it?  The other day I was getting a quote from a maid service for a one-time cleaning of our house.  I wanted to surprise my wife by having some of the more cleaning-intensive areas of the house done by a pro while my wife was away at a church retreat.

So, with coupon in hand, I contact the company, and begin discussions.  Finally, at some point, I am told that my little town is not in their cleaning area, and they probably won't be able to help me.   Now understand, they do service the town just south of mine... only 7 miles from my house to Main street in that town.

7 miles.   Even my gas-guzzling SUV will do that on less than a half-gallon of gas  (at current local prices... call it $1.50).    Heck, they can get from any point in the next town to my house on less than 1 gallon.   So I told the lady I'd be willing to pay $5 or so for that extra gallon of gas.  Seemed reasonable to me.    Since the only difference between my house and one in the serviced town was about one gallon of gas and 5 minutes or so of driving, I figured we could wrangle a deal.

Boy, was I mistaken.  The lady told me she'd have to talk to the owner, and call me back the next day.  Call me back she did, and told me that they would only come to my house if I bought a cleaning package over twice as expensive as what I was planning.  That was the only way they could "justify" the extra distance!

Justify?   I was willing to assuage their increased cost directly, and they want to dig me for $70 more just to come 7 miles?

That business person threw away perfectly good money.  It made absolutely no business sense to refuse my business when I was offering to offset the only business cost that differentiated me from a customer who would have been able to acquire their services based on their more southerly location.

Sometimes you gotta wonder about the Universe.

Somebody picked a style for this site, so where are the posts?

Hello everyone!   Welcome to my page, although there won't be much for most of you to see-- and I felt like I ought to explain that a bit.

I am by nature a very private person.  Ergo, posting my journal entries online for anyone to read would be somewhat equivalent to having my toenails ripped out by razor-toothed MC Escher worm/caterpillars while being subjected to the Muzak version of  "It's a small world after all"

In other words... it ain't happening.  My posts, be they random rants or my more deliberative writing attempts, will be marked as "Friends only", or "Me only"... almost without exception.

Therefore, if you happen to be someone who wanders through the lovely neighborhood of LiveJournal, browsing the windows of the various shops whilst imaging you're Harry Potter gazing in awe at Diagon Alley.... to you I offer my sincerest apologies for the magical wards placed on the entrance to this shop.    (They were placed with the help of a beautiful Aes Sedai, one that I actually happen to trust).   You can trust that I am pottering around in here, looking at the dusty shelves and numerous books, filling a pipe with sweet smelling tobacco that is never and will never be lit... and occasionally picking up a quill and writing a few words 'concerning Hobbits'.

I do hope you will understand.   I wish you a happy journey on this 'Net and that dangerous, scary place called The Real World.

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."